Friday, 29 May 2015

Prince William

Brian Mendonça

It was an ordinary day like
any. I had to head to Bardez where I had planned some work post-lunch.

Being a stranger to the area
I did some asking about a place to eat. A security guard of a gated colony enthusiastically pointed to a haunt opposite. Though he had been manning the gate for many
moons he was not aware that the joint was closed on Mondays. As I trudged in
the afternoon sun hoping to find succour I was directed to a place a little
distance away. Helpful signboards proclaimed the way to my destination. Though I
was wondering why folks were a little hesitant when showing me the way to the
place.

When I finally reached the
place it did not look like a restaurant at all. It was almost 3 and a few men
eyed me curiously when I approached. As I entered, the plush interiors
proclaimed the understated luxury of the corporate class. I decided to play
safe and order the fish curry rice. I also needed to pack some veg. dish with
rotis for my accomplice on the job. When I finished I had coughed no less than
Rs. 1000 for both dishes, inclusive of a Rs. 50 tip and a bottle of water. But
the perk of the afternoon was meeting William.

After being served food by several
non-Goans waiters in Vasco, who blink when we speak Konkani, here was a lad who
was Goan to boot. The lilt of Bardez Konkani provided the wine to our
conversation and William – I don’t know why – began to tell me his story.

William was 31 but he did
not look it. He told me he was down from Dubai after working there for a couple
of years. He had forfeited a month’s salary saying he was going to return from
Goa. He was fed up with the discrimination he had to face there --especially
during Ramzan. Once, a Pakistani eating an ice-cream was bashed up during the
season of abstinence by two motorbike borne locals who took umbrage at his
indulgence.

Now that William was back,
there was pressure on him to get married. ‘All my friends are married and have
kids!’ he confided to me incredulously. I asked him if he was seeing anyone. He
said he did, and in a rare gesture flipped open his wallet to show me a photo
of a staid girl – who I didn’t feel would have a clue to handling him.

I asked if he had any
siblings. ‘I have a brother. I don’t speak to him,’ he said. This had been
going on for years. His brother was married and had his own family.

Before we parted I asked if
he liked being a steward in a place like this. He shrugged, and said he did
before he buzzed off on his scooter to Mapusa.

He had a life before him. He
was my ‘Prince’ William – the original from the British Royal family is 33 years -- of a Goan family in Goa.